


You Know Who Oppenheimer Is

by crystalkei



Series: This Has Been Happening All Along [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know who Oppenheimer is,” she said, her mouth so close he was breathing the same air as she was. </p><p>“Your dirty talk needs work,” was the only thing he managed to say before her lips were on his.</p><p> </p><p>A missing scene from I Am Become Death. Plays into the theory that Clarke and Bellamy have actually been lowkey banging since Unity Day. We just didn't notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know Who Oppenheimer Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drgriffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drgriffin/gifts), [Quentanilien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quentanilien/gifts).



> You have to see Crissi's gifset for this! It's really great.  
> http://roctavia.tumblr.com/post/133370029082/have-bellamy-and-clarke-been-lowkey-banging-since

Bellamy brought the makeshift bowl filled with water into Clarke’s tent but she wasn’t there. The tent was empty. He put the water down and exited, he stood outside the tent looking around without moving, but it was dark and most of the kids were sleeping off their near death by now.

“Looking for someone?” Clarke startled him, her voice sounding raw from the illness, her face, just as he expected, still dirty from blood.

He swallowed and opened the tent flap for her. “Yeah, you,” he said, tilting his head to direct her inside.

She gave him a half smile, obliged, and he followed her in. Clarke stood in the middle of the tent, just steps from her cot and he tried to forget that time she propped her feet on his shoulders while he...never mind. The point was to forget it. They’d both almost died in the last 18 hours so it really wasn’t appropriate.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, shifting his eyes from her blanket and up to her face.

She nodded. “If I could get 10 solid hours of sleep I’d probably feel like a superhero, but we don’t really get that luxury down here, huh?”

Bellamy shook his head and laughed softly. Sleep was definitely not something they got a lot of. He stood there staring at her a minute thinking about the lack of sleep before she raised her eyebrows and he realized he’d stared too long.

“Oh, I,” he stuttered a minute before remembering why he’d come looking for her.

He shook his head again, this time in an attempt to try and clear the haze. Bellamy was still feeling a little sick, but like she said, if he had more rest, he’d be fine. He was mostly fine. Very proud of himself for not being dizzy after all the standing he was doing. But just to be safe, he sat down on her bed.

“I brought some water for you to clean yourself up.”

“That’s very kind,” Clarke said before pausing. “Also a little backhanded.” She smirked.

They were doing this a lot, the flirt and smile and fuck me eyes. Or maybe he was just imaging the fuck me eyes. To be fair, that is the look she gave him when she’d had a few drinks and he helped her have some fun on Unity Day...before Finn ruined everything with his stupid failed peace talks.

She sat down next to him and he reached for the bowl he’d brought. Pulling a cloth from his pocket he dipped it in the water and handed it to her. She stared at the cloth for a second and he hoped it was just because her brain was working a little slower than usual, like his, from the residual fever but then he realized.

“It’s clean, not one that was soaking up blood or vomit or anything,” he explained.

That seemed to be the issue because she took it then. Their fingers brushing again. Brushing like they had when he’d first woke to find out he didn’t die and she was there to give him water.

Clarke started on her face but she was terribly clumsy about it. Missing large patches of blood, spreading it around instead of cleaning it off.

“Can I help?” he asked and she glared.

“I can wash my own face,” she said sharply.

“If you had a mirror, I bet you could,” he tried.

Clarke sighed defeated. “Okay fine, but I’m not your little sister.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, taking the cloth and brushing it across her cheeks.

Her face sobered. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve done things with you that are strictly taboo in most societies if one does them with a sibling.”

Now Clarke smiled before pushing his hand out of the way and covering her face with her own hands. What he could see of her cheeks flushed pink which he could appreciate from a purely medical standpoint. She had been so pale when she was sick. Then again, he probably looked about the same.  

“Sorry I brought it up,” Bellamy said distracting himself by dipping the cloth back in the water.

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t, we…” she floundered before uncovering her face and shrugging at him, giving up on even being embarrassed apparently.  

“Got it, not a topic of conversation to cover,” he said before lifting the cloth to her face again.

Clarke entire body relaxed. He was glad the awkward conversation could be skipped but it was a slight blow to his ego. That was fine. It was just the one time, they were tipsy, she was not interested, it was a one time thing.

He delicately dabbed the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes for a minute but then opened them and he had to be imagining it, maybe the fever was back, but she looked determined. He continued cleaning around her eyes but he didn’t mistake the way she leaned closer. Bellamy swallowed and leaned back himself as she crowded his space, their noses almost touching.   
  
“You know who Oppenheimer is,” she said, her mouth so close he was breathing the same air as she was.

“Your dirty talk needs work,” was the only thing he managed to say before her lips were on his.

Clarke’s lips were chapped and she tasted like copper, he dropped the cloth and put one hand in her hair and the other on her cheek. Her tongue slid along the seam of his lips and her arms wrapped around his neck, it was the soreness of his neck that brought him back to reality.

“We shouldn’t do this, probably just going to reinfect each other or something. You’re the doctor,” Bellamy said, reaching for the discarded cloth. Trying to go back to cleaning her face. He didn’t get far though, her fingers were scratching at the back of his neck gently.

“I don’t think it works like that,” she said. “But if you aren’t up for it-”

“You’re sitting in my lap, you know I’m _up_ for it,” he whispered because really, they were so close he didn’t need to be loud. Also it felt like a bad line so it sounded better raspy and quiet.

She scoffed, a full smile taking over her face this time. She leaned her forehead against his, her eyes closed, and he dropped the cloth again and sliding his hands down her sides then reaching for the hem of her shirt. He could take it off, but decided on running his fingers along the skin of her back under her shirt. She shivered and he stopped.

“No, keep going,” she pleaded.

“This is going to be terrible, we’re still too sick,” he tried but she took that moment to grind down on his thigh. Bellamy groaned.

“You’re right, you’re right, but counterpoint,” she said against the skin of his jaw now. “Would you fuck me if you weren’t a little drunk either from Unity Day moonshine or fever?”

“If I had the energy I would laugh you right out of this tent,” Bellamy said tilting his head allowing her more access.

“Explain it more clearly please, I’m still death warmed over,” Clarke said. She nibbled his ear and he moaned.

“I will fuck you against any and every surface you choose, I’d do it in front of this whole damn camp if it was what you wanted, no bleeding from the eyes necessary.” He gasped as her hand brushed past his crotch.

“Modern romance,” she said before kissing his lips.

As much as he wanted to stay upright, he figured it was better for both of them if they changed positions but he was enjoying the way her tongue sought out his. He reached his arm around her entire back to hold her and used his other arm to lean them both down without breaking contact. She sighed relieved when her head rested on the bed.

“See, we do not have the energy right now but I’m very interested in napping with your lips really close to mine,” Bellamy suggested.   
  
Clarke’s eyes immediately fluttered shut and she kicked her boots off. He did the same. His arm stayed around her back, pulling her closer to him, her arms rested against his chest.

“People might come looking for us,” she said after a few minutes.

“The only people well enough to not be sleeping off this virus are digging graves.”

He knew she was still recovering because the depressing news that he'd tasked people to dig graves for the kids they'd lost didn't faze her. It would eventually though. 

“We should check on them in a while.” Clarke snuggled into him.

“Later,” he said.

**  
  
**


End file.
